


Worse Than a Slap

by MSpataro210



Series: Season 12 Inspired [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12x11, Castiel Avoids Dean, Confused Dean, Confused Sam, Love Confessions, M/M, Regarding Dean, Voicemail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 06:09:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9643838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MSpataro210/pseuds/MSpataro210
Summary: During the spell, Dean managed to find time to send a message out.  Only thing is he can't remember what he said.  Now Castiel is avoiding him, and he can't figure out why that is?  But when he does, he knows exactly what to do.Coda to 12x11 "Regarding Dean"





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there!
> 
> New episode was really great, better than I expected (I hate amnesia episodes as much as I love them)
> 
> Decided that this could have easily been snuck in as an extra layer to the story and decided to run with it.
> 
> Enjoy!

            Castiel sits in the war room, surrounded by papers, maps, and books. They go unnoticed, untouched, as Cas stares at his phone. It rests in his hand, his grip on it tight. It- _He_ is shaking. The pin board is just a few feet away, Kelly’s smiling face in the center staring at him, laughing at him-

            “Cas, we’re home!”

            Castiel looks up, whipping his phone away, hiding it in his pocket. He stands, just as Sam walks into the room, a bag of take out in hand.

            “Sam,” he attempts a smile, “good to see you. Is Dean-“

            “Right, here, Cas,” Dean walks in, a grin plastered on his face. He’s already got a drink in hand, and takes a sip out of it.

            “Dean,” Castiel smiles, “You remember me?”

            Sam and Dean share a glance at Castiel’s reaction. Dean walks forward; just enough to see Castiel’s blue eyes were starting to get glassy.

            “Of course,” he starts, “Why wouldn’t I?”

            “The memory spell,” Castiel says, tilting his head, “the one you told me about?”

            “I did?”

            “You don’t… remember?” Cas closes the gap, frowning, “is it… do you-”

            “No, no,” Sam answers, walking towards them, “we handled it. Dean’s better.”

            “I have no memory of anything that happened while under the spell,” Dean shrugs, “but thankfully, that’s the only thing I can’t remember.”

            “Oh…”

            Dean and Sam exchange another glance as Castiel steps back, hands reaching into his pocket.

            “Did I,” Dean asks, “Did I say anything el-“

            “No,” Cas cuts him off, blushing, “you called to assuage me of any worry. Although telling me about it did nothing to help.”

            “Sorry Cas,” Dean chuckles, laying his hand on Castiel’s shoulder, “wasn’t in my right mind.”

            “That’s right,” Cas says, shaking his head, “you weren’t.” He doesn’t look at Dean. Dean swallows hard, and turns to look at Sam. Sam shrugs.

            He walks towards the table, putting the bag down. “We were just about to have dinner, Cas,” Sam says, “would you like any-“

            “No,” Castiel says, stepping away from Dean, “I think I’ll just go lie down. I’m… _tired_.”

            “Really? I thought you couldn’t get-“

            He walks away before Dean can finish. All Dean can do is watch him go.

            “Dean?”

            “What?” Dean says, gruff.

            “You sure you can’t remember anything from the curse?” Sam asks, pulling out the food, “Like, at all?”

            “It’s just one, big black spot Sammy,” Dean sighs, moving closer. He waves his hand by his head, “’S’all gone!”

            “Well, you better hope it comes back,” Sam says, “because something tells me your little chat with Cas wasn’t just that.”

            “You and me both,” Dean mutters, taking one of the containers and popping it open. He takes a bite of the rice, and looks back at where Castiel walked out.

* * *

             Sam is sitting at a table in the library, looking over the spell book Dean and he had acquired. He’s been making notes on them, their translations, trying to glean any useful spells he and Dean might need in the future. That is, until he hears the sounds of footsteps. He looks up to see Castiel standing in the entryway, wringing his hands together, and looking everywhere but at him.

            “Something on your mind, Cas?” Sam puts the book down.

            “May I,” Castiel starts, “May I speak with you?”

            “Of course,” Sam smiles, “you know that.”

            Castiel nods, still not meeting Sam’s eyes. He shuffles forward and takes a seat across from Sam. He drums his fingers on the wood. Castiel takes his time talking, so Sam does the first step for him.

            “Does this have anything with how you’ve been avoiding Dean,” Sam says, startling Castiel into looking him.

            “You noticed?”

            Sam rolls his eyes. “You haven’t been exactly subtle,” Sam leans back, “maybe don’t run out the second he enters a room.”

            Castiel blushes, remembering what Sam is talking about. A few days ago, Castiel had been in the kitchen looking for something, anything to do. His head was in the kitchen and the general humming distracted him from listening. That’s why he didn’t hear Dean until he was right behind him.

            And how Dean scared him enough to hit his head on one of the shelves.

            He bolted the second he could, refusing to look back at Dean. If he did… he wouldn’t have left.

            “It may,” Castiel answers Sam’s first question, leaning back as well.

            “What is it?”

            “Dean, when under the spell,” Castiel says slowly, choosing his words carefully, “How… how was he?”

            “How was he?” Sam parrots, eyebrows raised.

            “Yes.”

            “Well, he was fine… for a bit,” Sam tells him, “it was kind of funny, too. He got slapped… forgot the names of things… even forgot which key was Baby’s. But then, then he couldn’t remember his name or-or my name. He forgot more and more with each passing minute it… it scared me. And through it all he was just-happy.”

            “Happy?”

            “He couldn’t remember his life,” Sam says, “the life of a hunter. Anyone would be happy to not have this life.”

            “Does he,” Castiel swallows, “Does he wish he still doesn’t remember all that we-all that he did?”

            Sam raises a brow at Castiel’s misstep, but answers him anyway. “No,” he says, “he doesn’t. Sure, being able to live a life without being a hunter is rare, but it wouldn’t be Dean. It must have felt nice, for a bit, too escape, but Dean knows this is what he wants in his life.”

            “Huh.”

            Sam can see Castiel thinking, and then watches as he pulls his cell phone out from his coat pocket. He plays with it, fiddling with it while looking up at Sam every few seconds. Sam waits, not wanting to scare him off.

            “Hey Sam I was-Cas?”

            “Dean!”

            Castiel stands, pushing the seat back. He stares at Dean, eyes wide and mouth open. Dean mirrors him for a few seconds, then comes back to himself.

            “Cas-“

            He turns and walks out, leaving Dean standing there, his hand outstretched. Dean frowns, lowering his hand. He looks to Sam, only for Sam to roll his eyes at him and shrug. Dean slumps, and walks over to take Castiel’s seat across from Sam.

            “Do you have any idea what I did?”

            “I might have,” Sam snorts, “before you spooked him.”

            Dean throws his arms out, “Really?”

            “It must have been something big, Dean,” Sam says, “I bet you wish you were back dealing with slap-girl.”

            “I wish all Cas did was slap me,” Dean says, looking down, “at least it’d hurt less.”

            Sam’s about to ask what he means when Dean pushes back his seat, eyes locked on something.

            “What is it?”

            “Cas’s phone,” Dean answers, holding up the small, black object, “he must’ve dropped it when I… yeah.”

            “His phone?” Sam’s eyes widen, “you know what this means?”

            “We can text Claire and play a prank on her?” Dean huffs, “I don’t know, Sam!”

            “We can see what you said to Cas, idiot,” Sam tells him.

            “Oh… right,” Dean smiles, then frowns, “Wait… how are we even gonna do that?”

            “Leave that to me.”

            Sam holds his hand up, and Dean drops the phone in his hand. Dean gets up and moves to Sam’s side, hovering over him.

            “How’d you even get in?”

            “I knew the passcode.”

            “What was it?”

            “Zero-nine-eighteen.”

            “Zero…nine…” Dean’s face scrunches up in confusion, “Wait, isn’t that the day we-“

            “Here it is!” Sam says, “but… it’s not a call.”

            “What is it?” Dean leans in closer.

            “It’s a… voicemail.”

            The brothers look at each other. Sam asks Dean if he should press the button, seeing as how it’ll be Dean’s voice they’ll hear. Dean nods, because he’s just as curious as Sam. Sam presses play.

            _“Hey Cas! It’s Dean… I know, it’s Sam’s phone but-uh, he told you I broke mine right? I’m sure he had, too-look, that isn’t important. I just wanted to tell you, before I… before… I-uh, no, no keep it together, Winchester. I… sound crazy, don’t I. I also don’t have another shot of recording this message given… well, I won’t draw out the suspense Cas, I’ve been hit by a curse. Some witch got me and… I’m forgetting. Everything. It’s hitting me in bursts like, one moment I’ll have forgotten how to use a pen and the next I don’t… don’t know my own family. And, well-I just wanted to tell you something before I forget. Something I thought I’d get to tell you in person, maybe after a bit too much to drink and I’m a little less afraid. I don’t know if Sammy and me’ll be able to get out of this one. I don’t even know if I’ll know what I’m in in the next hour. But… I want you to know, even if I forget, that… that I love ya, Cas. Not as a brother and not like a friend but, like, the real deal, Cas. I feel it in here-in my heart-whenever I look into your eyes. And the sad thing is I’m even starting to forget what color they are which-which is crazy because they’re my favorite color and-look, I just I wanted you to know because after everything we’ve been through, you deserve to hear these words before either one of us bites it for the last time. I just… didn’t think it’d be now. …What do you mean I’m almost out of time? Who are you to tell me-“_

The message cuts out after that. Sam takes a quick glance at Dean from the corner of his eye. His brother is frozen, staring at the device slackjawed. There’s a tear near his eye threatening to fall, and Sam can feel Dean’s body shaking.

            “Dean-“

            He turns, heading in the same direction Castiel went, running after the angel. Sam watches him go. 

* * *

 

            Castiel is in his room, lying on his bed. He holds onto the pillow, resting his chin on it as he stares at his blank television screen. He’s just about to turn it on when he hears a banging on his door.

            “Cas!” Dean calls from the other side, “Cas, open up!”

            Castiel does nothing but watch the door with wide eyes. He doesn’t even move, careful not to make a sound and alert the elder Winchester to his presence.

            It doesn’t matter.

            Dean kicks down the door after a few minutes. He walks in, staring at Castiel with something burning in his eyes.

            “Dean!” Castiel yells, shocked, “You kicked down my door! What are you-“

            “Why didn’t you tell me?”

            Castiel’s eyes widen a fraction before they return to normal size. Castiel looks away, fingers playing with the pillow.

            “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

            “Seriously, Cas?” Dean asks, adrenaline making its way out of his system. He collapses onto the bed, a hand resting on Castiel’s ankle. He rubs his thumb across it. Castiel watches him carefully. They sit like that for a few minutes. Castiel dare not run, because he knew Dean would quickly hold him down.

            “I heard what I said.”

            “How-“

            “Dropped your phone,” Dean chuckles, “by the way, September 18th?”

            “It… means a lot to me.”

            “It means a lot to me, too.”

            “Dean, where are you going with this?”

            “I meant it, y’know.”

            Castiel raises his brows at Dean’s confession. Dean isn’t looking at him, but the flush is fairly visible crawling up Dean’s neck.

            “I thought you said you couldn’t remember?”

            “I did,” Dean says, “but, hearing myself I… it all just came back to me, and… you want to know what I was thinking, when I called you?”

            “I’m surprised you know what you were thinking back then.”

            “I was a little miffed, when I got your voicemail,” Dean chuckles, “but then I started to forget what I was trying to do so I… I focused on your voice. It brought me back. And then, when I was talking, I tried remembering all the little things about you that I… your trench coat, your jokes, how you always look out for me, even when I want to throw you against a wall because of how you do it… your eyes.”

            “I thought you couldn’t remember the color of my eyes?”

            “For a second,” Dean tells him, “but I looked up at the sky, and I remembered.” Dean turns to him, “Cas, don’t think for a second that this spell made me say something I didn’t really feel. When I was trying to hold on to the most important things, when my head was fogging up worse than San Francisco, my love for you was one of the things I kept a tight grip on. I just wish I didn’t end up losing it, s’all, even for a night…”

            “Fuck you, Dean Winchester.”

            Dean looks up at Castiel to see tears in the angels eyes.

            “Fuck you for calling me,” he continues, “for giving me everything I ever wanted and then ripping it out of my hands.”

            “Cas-“

            Castiel pushes the pillow away, and moves closer. “The next time you have something to tell me, something _important_ ,” he growls, grabbing Dean by the shirt, “don’t wait for the next time your life is in danger.”

            Then he kisses Dean. Dean is surprised, but soon enough melts into the kiss, raising his hands and threading them in Castiel’s hair.

            Castiel turns them around, pushing Dean on his back and straddling him.

            “By the way,” he says, pulling away to give Dean some air, “I love you, too.”

            “Awesome.”

            “Dean? Dean?”

            Sam is walking down the hallway, Castiel’s phone in hand, trying to find Dean.

            “Look, Dean, I know you didn’t want me to hear what I did,” he says, walking closer to Castiel’s door, “but know I still love you, and don’t think any less of you.”

            “Okay, good, do you mind shutting up?”

            Sam startles, turning to Castiel’s open door–and instantly regretting it, turning back with a heavy blush on his face.

            “Dude, seriously?” Sam yells, “you could have closed the door.”

            “Sorry,” Dean giggles, body pressed up against Castiel’s under the covers, “guess I _forgot_.”

**Author's Note:**

> You like it? Even my little special hint?
> 
> Let me know! Drop a kudos and/or a comment!


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